


i called you with my heart

by neocxxlture



Series: tonight (last night universe addendums and fillers) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff I think, M/M, its basically a love letter to taeyong through doyoung's eyes but it's not too in depth, part of the criminal!au but can be read separately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocxxlture/pseuds/neocxxlture
Summary: Sometimes Doyoung feels like he’s dreaming, even though he knows he’s wide awake.





	i called you with my heart

**Author's Note:**

> i was planning to post something for halloween but i was Hit with a writer's block so nasty i literally. cant produce anything of substance so anyway have this thing that i fever wrote at 3 am in one sitting that isnt even good that i didnt even bother to read through to make sure it's not a complete mess. <3

Sometimes Doyoung feels like he’s dreaming, even though he knows he’s wide awake.

It’s peculiar, he thinks, that he should feel like this. His dreams have never felt this pleasant. Nice was never something that his dreams had been, not even in his childhood. There wasn’t much more than fitful sleep and nightmares in store for a boy that slept with a pocket knife under his pillow ever since he could remember.

Yet here he is, looking at Taeyong sitting with his friends at a table across the room, and he feels like none of this could possibly be real.

He stays rooted in place, far enough that Taeyong hasn’t spotted him yet, and he simply looks. At Taeyong, talking to his friends, gesturing with his hands, laughing about something. Doyoung pinches the skin on his forearm, twice. The scene doesn’t change. It never changes.

Taeyong is wearing that stupid earring, Doyoung notices. It still surprises him, sometimes, that Taeyong has kept it for so long. The more he stares, the less rooted in reality he feels. Like, if he takes a step forward, it’s all going to dissolve around him into nothing and all that will be left is himself and this – this feeling in his chest, the invisible hand that’s pushing against his ribcage until he feels like suffocating.

He regards Taeyong as he looks at his watch, then looks around the room. He spots Doyoung and immediately smiles at him, so wide and unrestrained Doyoung feels dizzy, and he waves him over. Doyoung waves back, just a quick motion of his wrist, and he walks forward to meet him; and everything stays where it is, and Taeyong stays where he is, and when Doyoung reaches the table and Taeyong introduces him to his friends, when he takes Doyoung’s hand and tugs him down to sit in the chair next to him, when he quickly kisses his cheek in greeting, Doyoung assures himself that he must be awake, because no dream could possibly feel quite this good.

💎

“Yuta really likes you,” Taeyong tells him, on their way home.

Doyoung thinks that’s fortunate. He happens to like Yuta as well. Sicheng, too. He’s glad Taeyong has found them. He says, “He’s nice.”

“Nice?” Taeyong repeats.

“Yes,” he answers, “They were both nice.”

He doesn’t need to look at Taeyong to know that he’s pouting, “I can’t tell if you mean that or not.”

That’s not the first time Taeyong’s said something to that effect, and Doyoung could leave it at that, could leave Taeyong to draw his own conclusion, and maybe a few years ago he would have – but lately, Doyoung is making an effort to be better, to be someone Taeyong would deserve, and even though he’s good with his words but not so much with his feelings, he tries anyway.

He takes Taeyong’s hand in his and intertwines their fingers, hoping to communicate all that he can’t say, “I mean it.”

Taeyong squeezes his hand, pushing his shoulder into Doyoung’s, “I’m glad.”

Doyoung wishes he knew how to express more; how to say that he thinks Yuta is a good friend, or that he’s grateful that Taeyong had him and Sicheng in his life before Doyoung found him again. How he’s – so thankful, so relieved, so goddamn happy – that he’s found him again.

They walk in silence for a while, and Doyoung lets himself enjoy the silent evening – the moon high up in the sky, Taeyong by his side, his hand in his own.

💎

“Oh, by the way,” Taeyong says once they’re at his apartment, “I didn’t know you could speak Japanese.”

Doyoung has been toweling off his hair, but at this he stops, considers his response. “I moved to Japan, lived there for a while,” he says, “After you left.”

That’s only a part of the truth, but Taeyong doesn’t need to know that. Doyoung doesn’t like to think about that time of his life. Taeyong asked before, how he managed to move to Seoul, when did he get there, why did he – and Doyoung kept his answers to himself, refusing to confess that he almost didn’t make it, that the only reason his father didn’t kill him was because his brother happened to be home on a visit, that he had to pack his bags and book it out of there, that he boarded the first flight at the airport and it happened to be headed for Tokyo, that his time in Japan was a blur, that it was there when he heard the news of Taeyong’s supposed passing.

💎

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit,” Taeyong says, “What was it like?”

The only thing Doyoung distinctly remembers about Japan is the feeling of desperation and fear. “I didn’t enjoy it,” he decides to admit, “I was alone.”

“Maybe we could go together, sometimes,” Taeyong suggests, “Like a vacation.”

Doyoung doesn’t really want to, but he doesn’t say no outright; the look on Taeyong’s face stops him. Earnest and honest, he’s everything good in this world that Doyoung adores, and maybe, just maybe, his presence makes everything so much better and bearable, that Doyoung thinks if he’s going to have Taeyong by his side, he’s going to be able to do absolutely anything.

“Yes,” he says and finds that he means it, “I’d like that.”

💎

Doyoung feels like he needs to say it, one of these days, because it’s getting to be too much keeping his feelings confined in his chest; he thinks maybe when Taeyong is kissing him, pinning him to the wall of their hallway, maybe that’s the right time, but Taeyong’s hands on him derail his train of thought until nothing else remains except for desire. Or a week later, when Doyoung wakes up to the slap of his father’s palm against his cheek and for a second thinks he’s back in his childhood bedroom, eleven and helpless, when Taeyong stirs awake as well and wraps his arms around Doyoung’s shaking form, holds him tight and close against his chest until Doyoung comes back to himself. Or the next day, when Taeyong is simply watching something on his laptop and Doyoung gets caught up in looking at him for too long—he just wants to say it. He needs to say it.

So he blurts it out, the next time they’re cuddling on the sofa and Taeyong laughs at something he’d said, that little chuckle he does – Doyoung is caught unawares, “I love you.”

Taeyong stops laughing then, but the happiness of it never leaves his face, “I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

“Then you should have,” Doyoung feels the corners of his mouth pulling up.

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Taeyong drops his head onto Doyoung’s shoulder, “I love you too.”

And Doyoung knows, of course, has known for quite a while even though it took him time to come to terms with it, but still his heart soars and feels so, so light when he hears Taeyong say it out loud.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/neocxxlture)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/paperplane_127) please talk to me!!! im friendly i promise <333


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